Itch
by Amarielah
Summary: Gokudera is having a bad day. One-sided Gokudera/Tsuna 5927


Summary: Gokudera is having a bad day. One-sided Gokudera/Tsuna (5927)

Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

Warnings: Swearing, and some very mild sexual undertones.

A/N: This is my first foray into Reborn! fanfic, and I'm fairly happy with the result. Gokudera is just too easy to torture, the poor boy.

Itch

It's a hot, muggy day, and Gokudera's t-shirt is sticking uncomfortably to his chest and back. The sky is June-blue, even though it's only late April, with smog thick on the horizon. The clouds in the sky are too flat to be pretty, and they give the sunlight an odd, artificial quality, like it's being shone out of a synthetic lamp. The grass is too green, and what can be seen of the sky is too bright, and yet not bright enough; it reminds him of a neon sign with one of the letters flickering on and off.

His eyes are burning and scratchy, and he has a tickle inside of his nose that just _won't go away_, no matter how many times he wiggles his nostrils (discreetly, of course, because nobody can ever know that Gokudera is a _nostril wiggler_).

Gokudera has a headache.

His fingers itch in his pockets, longing to throw dynamite at every smiling face that passes him by. The chattering girls, the boys laughing and grinning and being playfully violent—they all make him want to puch something _very hard_. He snarls, though, and tries to keep his cool; he keeps his hands stowed away safely in his jeans, the material chafing his knuckles.

From behind him, he hears somebody calling his name, but keeps on walking. The voice doesn't register; he's too agitated. It must be Yamamoto. The baseball freak has a habit of showing up at the worst possible times. In his pockets, his already fisted hands ball even tighter, blunt nails digging into the flesh of his palms. _Fucking heat_, he thinks. _Fucking baseball freak_.

But the person has not taken the hint, and his name is called once more. The voice is closer, now, and completely recognizable. Gokudera's eyes widen; his heart speeds up. He turns around quickly to see Tsuna waving at him, a small smile gracing the boy's slightly sunburned face. As if by magic, the tension drains from Gokudera's back, his headache completely forgotten. For a moment, his vision tunnels, and the outside world disappears.

It is quite phenominal, the things that can go through a person's mind in a single moment. His fingers still itch, but with an impulse that is entirely different from violence. Gokudera wants to reach out and trace the smile on Tsuna's face; he wants to feel the softness of his lips, mapping the Tenth's happiness so that it can be forever held within his memory. He wants to run his hands through Tsuna's unruly mop of hair. He wants to fling his arms around the other boy, holding him close enough to feel his heartbeat; the proof that he really, truly exists, and isn't a figment of Gokudera's imagination. A heat-- infinitely more pleasant than that of the humid, stale air --spreads across his cheeks at the thought of the Tenth pressed so intimately against him.

"Gokudera...kun?"

And, just like that, the fantasy is over. Nothing but Gokudera's blush is left in its wake.

_How could I think something so fucking __**sappy**_? he asks himself, silently thanking several deities that neither Tsuna nor Yamamoto can read minds. Not that Yamamoto is even _there_, but Gokudera just knows that he's lurking in the shadows nearby, waiting to pop out and be an idiot for the soul purpose of pissing Gokudera off.

"Are you okay?" asks Tsuna. "You weren't in school today, and you look kind of...out of it."

"I'm great," says Gokudera, plastering a grin on his face and waving his hands back and forth in an awkward gesture of dismissal. "Really. I just wasn't in the mood for school, is all." Inside, he's glowing from the thought that Tsuna is concerned for him, from the fact that he actually cares enough to notice Gokudera was not at school.

"I wish that I could just ditch like that," says Tsuna, apparently convinced. Gokudera lets out a soft sigh that may be relieved or dissapointed-- he can't really be sure which. "Reborn would kill me if I tried," Tsuna continues, his smile returning

Gokudera wants to say something, but he isn't certain _what_. He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again. Tsuna gives him a strange look.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

_No_, thinks Gokudera. He's not okay. He's hot and he's tired and he's grumpy, and the itch in his nose has still not gone away (he can't wiggle his nostrils in front of the Tenth; right-hand-men are **not** _nostril wigglers_). Even worse, he wants to do terrible, inappropraite things to his boss. For an agonizing second, he considers telling Tsuna. _Oh hey, Tenth, just wanted to say that I'm probably in love with you. How shitty is this weather?_

That course of action is quickly abandoned as an option. His headache returns with a vengeance.

"Don't worry about me, Tenth!" Gokudera exclaims, forcing his grin wider. "As your right-hand-man, I will not allow the heat to get the better of me!"

Tsuna takes a step back, eyes widening slightly. "Y-yeah," he says, not looking at Gokudera directly. "I'll see you at school tomorrow?"

Gokudera nods vigorously, even as he feels his stomach plummeting to his feet. He's not oblivious; he knows that Tsuna gets weirded out by his enthusiasm. But, goddamit, he just can't help himself.

"Alright. See ya, Gokudera-kun!"

"See ya, Tenth!" He waves, keeping his grin plastered firmly in place. His cheeks burn from the strain.

_I'm an idiot_, he thinks. _What the fuck am I doing? _He receives no answer, because he really doesn't have one. Frowning, he shoves his hands back into his pockets and turns around.

The grass is still too green, and the humidity is as cloistering as ever, but it just doesn't seem to matter anymore. Gokudera's eyes are burning from humiliation and shame, now, which is infinitely worse than anything nature can cook up. He tries not to think of how the summer sunlight-- which makes almost everything look too vivid, too jarring-- had made Tsuna look so...so...

_Beautiful, _he thinks, and the way the shame twists in his stomach reminds him of his sister's cooking.

He tries to think positively, reminding himself that, on bright side, Yamamoto hasn't shown up to torment Gokudera with his infuriating tendency to be easy-going and cheerful, even when everybody around him feels like shit.

"Hahaha. Hey there, Gokudera!"


End file.
